


La Douleur Exquise

by BunheadKitKat19, doyouthasmind



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/F, I know what you're thinking but hear me out, I'm Sorry, Protective!poltergeist thirteen, Romance, Slow Burn, Whump, but stick with me..., ghost!Thirteen, hurt/ comfort, she didn't regenerate, thasmin, this is painful, tw: anxiety, tw: depression, well mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunheadKitKat19/pseuds/BunheadKitKat19, https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyouthasmind/pseuds/doyouthasmind
Summary: La Douleur Exquise (French): The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can't have.“Wake up, Doctor, please.” She mumbled over and over into the hand clasped between her own.Amidst her tears she vacantly felt hands pulling her back off the blonde but couldn’t bring herself to care.She howled with sorrow.The Doctor is dead.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 118
Kudos: 143





	1. 1

Numb.

That’s the only way Yaz can describe how she feels.

She’s laying on her bed with no chance of sleeping any time soon, having spent the last few hours staring mindlessly at the ceiling. Yaz checks her alarm clock. 3:45AM.

She rolls over with a sigh to face the window and tucks her hand under her cheek. It feels as if time has both stood still and moved at ten times the speed since the day the Doctor…

No.

Yaz screws her eyes shut and presses the palms of her hands into her eyes, willing away the images rushing to the forefront of her mind.

_“What do we do?!” She screamed. It felt as if the TARDIS was being ripped in six different directions all at once._

_Even the Doctor looked panicked, which didn’t happen often. It was what made Yaz realise that something was very, very wrong._

_“Doc, what’s happening?” Graham yelled over the roaring of the angry ship. The Doctor shook her head in a fluster, spinning and pressing a million dials and switches a minute._

_“Something’s locked onto us, the TARDIS can’t get away,” The Doctor looked up into three terrified pairs of eyes in front of her, “Don’t worry, I can fix th-” She was interrupted by a blast of light forcing the TARDIS doors open and zapping the Doctor square in the chest._

_Light exploded around them and the world went black._

Yaz needs to get out of here.

She rises to look out of her window and sees the little blue box on the corner. Yaz hasn’t returned to the TARDIS since Graham and Ryan walked her home to her parents’ flat the day after it happened. That was also the last time she has seen any of her friends. 

Making up her mind, Yaz jumps out of bed and forces a laced-up pair of trainers onto her bare feet. She sneaks through the flat and out the front door, grabbing a jacket on her way. The building is quiet at this hour and she encounters nobody on her way outside.

Yaz pauses when the TARDIS comes into view. It hasn’t moved from its spot outside the block of flats since… since that day. She sneaks a hand down the front of her shirt and pulls out the key that has been kept safe on a chain around her neck for the last week like a heavy burden.

Yaz walks forwards to rest a shaky hand on the worn wood, her face relaxing when she feels the familiar warm hum under her fingertips.

After a confident nod, she slips the key into the lock, takes a deep breath and pushes the door open.

_It was calm when she woke. The TARDIS lights were dim, and they seemed to have left the chaos of earlier long behind them._

_Yaz groaned as she shifted onto her back, body aching, and opened her eyes. The earlier events rushed through her brain all at once. She took a heaving gasp and sat upwards in a hurry when she realised that the Doctor-_

_“Doctor!” She screamed, throwing herself down beside the lifeless woman lying next to the console. Yaz picked up a wrist and felt no heartbeats, “Doctor..” She sobbed, collapsing beside her._

_“Wake up, Doctor, please.” She mumbled over and over into the hand clasped between her own._

_Amidst her tears she vacantly felt hands pulling her back off the blonde but couldn’t bring herself to care._

_She howled with sorrow._

_The Doctor is dead._

When Yaz steps into the TARDIS part of her wonders whether she expected anything to change.

It hasn’t.

The Doctor’s video message is still displayed on the console monitor, explaining to them that her death enacted the TARDIS’s emergency protocols, which brought them home to Sheffield.

Yaz absently wonders when the Doctor found the time to record this message prior to her death, but the shorter length of her blonde locks suggests it was earlier on in their travels.

Off to the side of the console room is a door. Yaz had never seen it before, until Ryan and Graham carefully settled the Doctor’s body down on the bed in the centre of the room, per the TARDIS’ instructions – and it’s where she has remained ever since.

The brunette wonders if the Doctor’s body will remain there eternally as her TARDIS watches over her.

Yaz is careful to keep that door far out of her eyesight, the solid metal a painful reminder of the day she lost her best friend.

She wanders towards the console, dragging her fingers across buttons that she knows the Doctor would never let her touch so carelessly. The TARDIS beeps in a way that Yaz can only translate as sounding extremely sad. She looks up.

“I miss her too, girl.” She stops to pat her hand on the surface of the console, “I wonder what you’ll do now that you have no pilot. Stay here I suppose.” Yaz hums thoughtfully, continuing her speech to the sentient ship that she hopes is listening.

“It’s not the same, without her here I mean.” Yaz’s movement stills and her eyes prick with tears, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. There isn’t anything here for me now other than a job that I’m no longer interested in.” She sighs.

“Every once in a while, I think I’m going crazy. It’s like I can feel her beside me, I can see her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles and tells me all about the incredible places she’s been.” Yaz closes her eyes with her head in her hands and drops her voice to a coarse whisper.

“And sometimes if I try hard enough I almost convince myself that she’s not gone.”

_“Yaz.” ___

__“See!” Yaz calls out to the TARDIS, “I’m even hearing things now.”_ _

___“Open your eyes, Yaz.”_ _ _

____Slowly Yaz’s hands peel back from her face, and nothing in the galaxy could have prepared her for the sight of familiar green eyes in front of her._ _ _ _

____Yaz stumbles backwards._ _ _ _

____“Doctor?” The blonde looks at her with eyes filled with sadness._ _ _ _

____“This isn’t really you.” Yaz chokes out, scrubbing at her eyes with rough hands and blinks in an attempt to clear them, “You’re not really here, you can’t be.”_ _ _ _

____The Doctor is still._ _ _ _

____“It’s me, Yaz.”_ _ _ _

____“No it isn’t! You can’t be!” Yaz’s hands start to scrabble at her throat as she panics, taking unmeasured steps backwards until she stumbles to the floor with her back pressed against one of the TARDIS’ columns. She scrapes her hands painfully through her hair as her breathing picks up._ _ _ _

____She can vaguely hear the Doctor talking to her but the roaring in her ears drowns her out. _The Doctor is dead._ _ _ _ _

_____So why is she here?_ _ _ _ _

____The sound of her own gasping breaths bring her back to the present._ _ _ _

____“I’m going crazy.” Yaz cries, curling in on herself and gripping her hair so tightly that the Doctor worries that she’s going to tear it from her scalp._ _ _ _

____“You’re not going crazy, Yaz, you need to breathe.” Slowly Yaz’s breaths slow and she tilts her head to look the Doctor in the eye._ _ _ _

____“Then how can I see you? You’re-“ she takes a deep breath, “You’re _dead_ .” The Doctor bites at her lip._ _ _ _

____“I know.” She mirrors Yaz’s position with her knees drawn up to her chest, “I don’t understand either.”_ _ _ _


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to BunheadKitKat19 for being the best Beta!

“Doctor…” Yaz mumbles in her sleep, “Doctor wake up.” Yaz’s brow scrunches in distress and her fingers curl painfully tight into the bedsheet.

“Yaz.” The Doctor attempts to rouse her, “Yaz!”

She wakes up with a start.

For a second Yaz forgets, until she doesn’t. The Doctor is dead. Yaz sits up and blearily studies the woman beside her.

“Sorry,” Yaz groans, “Nightmare.” The Doctor offers her a sympathetic smile.

“How are you here?” She asks the Doctor, who is now sitting atop her dresser at the base of her bed, “I didn’t think you could leave the TARDIS.” The Doctor shrugs softly.

“I can’t, I’ve tried.” She gives Yaz a wry smile, “But I blinked, and then I was here. I think the TARDIS sent me.” Yaz frowns.

“Why would the TARDIS send you here?” The Doctor shrugs again.

“I think she’s worried about you.” She admits. Yaz balks.

“Me?!” She remembers her sleeping family next door and lowers her tone, “I’m the one that’s still alive.” She looks down at the fingers she’s tangling in the sheets, and feels the Doctor move closer. When Yaz looks up the Doctor is sitting cross legged opposite her on the bed.

“You were having a nightmare.” The Doctor covers one of Yaz’s hands with her own. They can’t actually feel the other’s touch, but it’s nice to pretend that there’s a tangible connection between them.

Yaz is silent for a few moments before the Doctor realises she’s not planning to reply. She changes her tune.

“I’ve really missed the stars.” Yaz raises her head to see the Doctor looking wistfully out of the window with a tear in her eye and realises how selfish she’s being.

“I’m really sorry this happened, Doctor.” The time lord meets her eye.

“I know you are Yaz.” She sighs, “Could be worse, I suppose. I could have _died_ died.” They look into each other’s eyes for a second, neither knowing how to respond to that news.

A soft knock at the door interrupts them.

“Yaz, honey?” Najias head peeks around the corner of the now open door. Yaz freezes, panic stricken eyes pointed at the Doctor’s form.

“I heard talking, is everything alright?” Najia’s dressing gown encased form steps into the room, eyes glazing over the Doctor as if she’s not even there.

“Uh yeah,” Yaz stalls, moving aside for her mum to sit down as the Doctor quickly jumps out of her way, “Just a bad dream.” Yaz can see the Doctor gesticulating wildly over Najia’s shoulder.

“Oh honey, I know it’s hard when you lose someone you’re close to,” She mistakes Yaz’s odd nature as grief, “Come here,” Yaz’s mum pulls her into a hug.

Yaz looks at the Doctor with wide eyes over her mum’s shoulder.

“Why can’t she see you?!” She mouths silently at the Doctor.

“No idea!” She mouths back. Najia pulls back from the hug.

“Did you say something, love?” Her brow crinkles with concern.

“Me? No, nothing,” Yaz covers, staunchly trying to avoid the Doctor’s eye in the corner, “I think I’m going to go back to sleep now.” She hints, silently thanking the skies when her mother relents.

“Alright, get some rest.” Najia leaves quietly, and Yaz flops down onto her back with a sigh of relief.

“Why couldn’t she see you?” She whispers to the Doctor when her mum’s out of earshot, who runs her hands through her hair, brain in overdrive.

“That is a very good question.” The Doctor perches on the edge of the bed.

“What if it’s just me that can see you?” Yaz’s voice raises in pitch only to drop a second later, “What if you’re really just in my head?” She whispers to herself numbly.

“Yaz, now is not the time for a crisis.” The Doctor tells her seriously, and she tilts her head to see pointed green eyes looking intently, “We’re going to figure this out.”

Then the Doctor sighs in frustration and jumps up from the bed.

“I just don’t understand.” She moans, pacing quickly back and forth in front of Yaz.

“Which part?” Yaz tries to fill in the blanks.

“Well,” She rolls her eyes, “All of it. But… I should have never died in the first place. I mean, well, yeah I should have died but then I should’ve…” Yaz shuffles to the edge of her bed to place her feet on the ground, intrigued.

“Should have what?” She can see that look in the Doctor’s eye when there is a mystery to be solved.

The Doctor stills, planning her words carefully.

“Do you remember when I said I used to be a man?” Yaz’s lip tilts with a hint of a smile at the memory.

“Yeah.” She hums.

“My species is pretty clever. When we die, we’re able to regenerate into an entirely new person – every cell in our bodies rewritten.” Yaz’s eyes grow wide.

“So why didn’t that happen this time?” The Doctor snaps her fingers.

“Exactly!” She nods encouragingly, “I should never have stayed dead.”

Fifteen minutes later, the duo is in the TARDIS, Yaz tucking the key safely back under her shirt.

“I wanted to keep it safe,” Yaz explains, her cheeks blushing under the Doctor’s gaze, “Anyway, what are we doing here?” She looks expectantly at the Doctor.

“We need my sonic.” She explains, patting down her pockets, “I remember having it in my hand before… You know.” She makes an exploding gesture with her hands.

“Okay,” Yaz sighs, “Where could it have gone?” They split up and begin searching the console room. There was no knowing how far the blast could have thrown it. Yaz is just lifting one of the floor panels when she feels the Doctor’s presence over her shoulder.

“I see it!” The Doctor’s finger points, “Just between those wires.” Yaz leans down and spots it.

“I’ve got it,” She hoists herself down into the hole and retrieves it.

“Okay,” the Doctor says once Yaz has replaced the floor panel, “Scan me.”

Yaz feels somewhat apprehensive using the sonic, and the Doctor senses her worry.

“It’s okay, don’t think about it, just point and press.” Yaz nods, passing its odd weight between her hands. It seems wrong for the sonic to be in anyone’s care other than the Doctor’s.

She points and presses as asked, and the Doctor walks towards her to peer at the results that Yaz can’t comprehend.

“What does it say?” Yaz asks, and the Doctor scrunches her face in thought.

“Huh.” She steps away and looks about the console room.

“What is it Doctor? You’re making that face again.” She waits for the blonde to gather her thoughts.

“It’s written in code.” She says and Yaz frowns.

“Like a file?”

“Exactly that, Yaz.” The Doctor tilts her head, “It says I’m saved directly to the TARDIS mainframe.” Yaz walks to the centre console, looking up at the glowing crystals.

“She saved you.” The Doctor comes to stand next to her, and the room is filled with the sound of gentle bells.

“That she did,” The Doctor grins at the ceiling and begins to laugh, “You are absolutely brilliant, old girl, completely and utterly brilliant.” She announces towards the sentient ship, hands clasped together with joy.

The air grows warmer and the room lights in an array of yellow and orange as if the TARDIS is smiling too.

“She must have panicked,” The Doctor explains, “When I got shot and didn’t start regenerating – the TARDIS must have known something was wrong.”

“But how come it’s just me that can see you?”

“She preserved my body and downloaded my mind into the mainframe, projecting my being to the best person she could think of to help.” The Doctor smiles at her, “My Yaz.”

The brunette feels a blush rising to her cheeks again.

“Okay Doctor, what’s the plan?”

Ten minutes later they’re in the TARDIS library, the Doctor directing Yaz into collecting every single book on Time Lords that she can think of.

Eventually, when Yaz has placed the last stack of tomes onto the overflowing coffee table, the pair behold the enormity of the project they’re embarking on. Yaz drops to the purple sofa, face glum.

“There’s got to be at least fifty books here.” The Doctor sits delicately beside her.

“Yep, it’s gonna take a while.”

“Well,” Yaz announces, pulling the closest book into her lap, “We’d better get reading then, hadn’t we?”


	3. 3

Over the next few weeks Yaz dedicates every minute of her spare time to researching whatever she can possibly find about time lords. She and the Doctor are currently halfway through the piles and piles of books they’d located in the TARDIS library, and Yaz feels as if her brain is about to explode or turn to mush.

They’ve kept a journal where Yaz has written down everything that they’ve considered even slightly relevant to the Doctor’s regeneration process, which… isn’t much.

Yaz turns the page of the book in her lap.

They quickly figured that this research was going to take much more time than they ever could have expected – the Doctor, not being able to physically touch or move any of the books, is somewhat disadvantaged and so they have to research as a pair.

Yaz’s head lolls back to thud against the back of the sofa, waiting for the Doctor to finish the page. She’s spent so much time looking at the words that they’re all merging together.

The buzzing of Yaz’s phone jolts them from their silence.

“Yes, mum?” Yaz answers, throwing a look of apology at the Doctor, who waves her off, “Oh God I completely forgot, I’m so sorry.” Yaz looks down and sighs, toying with the end of her plait and listening to the voice on the other end of the line.

“Everything okay?” The Doctor whispers. Yaz nods.

“I know it’s late, Mum, sorry,” Yaz apologises again down the phone, the Doctor hearing the tension in Najia’s voice from her position a few feet away, “I was just checking in on Graham and Ryan on the way home from work. I’ll be there soon. Bye.” She hangs up after the easy lie, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside her.

“I only went and bloody forgot about dinner with my cousins, they’re all waiting for me.” Yasmin moans. The Doctor smiles sympathetically.

“You’d better head off, then.” She offers.

“What’ll you do when I’m gone? You can’t research without me, we’re wasting time.” Yaz sits up to look her dead in the eye.

“It’s okay, Yaz,” The Doctor reassures, “Go spend time with your family. I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll be right here when you get back. Promise.” She gives her a sharp nod and waves her away. Yaz reluctantly rises, leaving the book open on her vacated seat.

“Okay, fine. If you’re sure.” She offers the Doctor a subdued smile, who studies how completely drained Yaz looks. Maybe she’s been pushing herself too hard.

“I’m sure, Yaz, enjoy your evening.” Yaz rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“I’ll see you later, Doctor.”

Later, when Yaz returns late into the night the Doctor expresses her concerns in the TARDIS doorway. 

“I’m fine, stop fretting.” Yaz says pointedly, and the Doctor tries to ignore the way that the wind blows Yaz’s hair. If she tries hard enough she can almost remember the feeling of the wind tickling her own skin. She shakes her head gently, reminding herself that it doesn’t do to dwell. 

“I’m not fretting! Okay, well I am a bit,” The Doctor acquiesces, “But you need to rest, you’re overworked as it is, Yaz. I’m worried about you – you can’t spend the rest of your life chasing ghosts.” She finishes quietly, looking away, and Yaz is somewhat taken aback.

Thus far, the Doctor had been fairly upbeat. Yes, it was hard going, but she’d been her usual positive self. This was the first time Yaz had seen any niggle of doubt in her friend’s brain.

“Hey,” Yaz steps closer, prompting the Doctor to look her in the eye, “I won’t spend my whole life doing so. We’re going to figure this out.” It was hard seeing the Doctor like this, and yes she’d been sad before, but now she looks absolutely miserable.

“I know, it’s just…” The Doctor musters.

“I know. But we’ll find something, we just need to keep looking, okay?” She raises an eyebrow when she doesn’t get a response, “Okay, Doctor?” The blonde rolls her eyes.

“Yes, alright.” She agrees.

“Good,” Yaz smiles, “Let’s get a shift on.”

They get into somewhat of a routine after that. After spending all day at work, Yaz researches with the Doctor late into the night. Once she eventually falls asleep, usually between two or three AM, the Doctor watches over Yaz until she wakes early enough to sneak into her flat and get another hour of rest before her family wakes up.

This night isn’t any different.

At approximately 3:04 Yaz nods off, head resting on the arm of the sofa and limbs spread across its brightly coloured cushions.

The Doctor resigns herself to another long night.

Not being able to sleep, she sometimes has a wander around the TARDIS, though she tends to finish her walk sadder than she begins. After a dozen laps of the library, her slow footsteps take her through the hallway, passing rooms left and right.

Fairly early on, the TARDIS began leaving doors open for her.

Her footsteps still outside her workshop.

Chewing on her lip, the Doctor makes her way inside the room. While this used to be one of her favourites, with its chaotic clutter and faint aroma of engine oil, it only serves to dampen her mood.

The Doctor’s fingers positively itch to tamper with the stabilisers or adjust the gravity field, but her current condition makes all of her normal, easy tasks impossible.

The TARDIS hums, sensing her discontent.

“I’m okay, girl.” She consoles, tilting her head up to address the ship. But she isn’t.

She just feels so… Useless.

And guilty.

Guilty that Yaz is having to juggle all the heavy lifting of the operation alongside her full-time job, without even a murmur of a complaint. They’d briefly considered approaching Ryan and Graham for assistance but Yaz had shut that idea down pretty fast.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell them that I can see you, or want their support,” She’d reasoned, “But what happens if we can’t fix this… If we can’t bring you back. I can’t give them hope only to have it dashed, it would crush them, Doctor. They’ve lost too much already.”

It was true, she understood.

With a ghost of a sigh, the Doctor moves back into the hallway.

Later she makes her way back to the library and Yaz has shifted so that half her body is practically hanging off the edge of the sofa. The Doctor smothers a smile. She’d love nothing more than to gently move the brunette into a more comfortable position, but she can’t.

So, she placates herself by settling in the armchair at Yaz’s side for the remainder of the night, and vows to stay by her side from now on. The Doctor can’t do much in her current predicament, but she’ll protect Yasmin Khan any way she can. 

Hours later Yaz is woken by the blaring of her alarm. 

“Mornin’,” Yaz mumbles when she can finally open her eyes enough to pay any attention to her surroundings. She spends the next few moments cracking practically every bone in her body, making the Doctor wince.

“Surely sleeping on the sofa every night can’t be good for you,” She remarks, and the brunette shrugs, before making her way to the TARDIS kitchen, where there’s usually a coffee waiting for her, courtesy of the ship.

When Yaz darts out the door before her family wakes, and the Doctor watches her go with a sad smile, and the next evening the cycle starts anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments, I love and appreciate every single one :) 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @ginger-cheekbones


	4. 4

A week later Yaz finds herself hurrying towards the TARDIS after work. It’d been a tough shift, and Yaz groans as she remembers the way she had been reprimanded by her boss when she’d practically fallen asleep at her desk. She ended up finally leaving the station two hours after her shift ended – feeling guilty after her misdemeanour, she stayed late to catch up.

Yaz spares a guilty glance towards her flat as she walks past, knowing that her family would once again be wondering where she was. Her regular excuse of visiting Graham and Ryan is running thin, and she’s somewhat worried that her mum might start calling Graham herself to verify.

Pushing these thoughts aside, Yaz enters the TARDIS, her trainers making little noise on the metal floor. As she turns to close the door behind her, Yaz’s ears prick at the sound of the Doctor’s voice as the ship hums away, the pair evidently deep in conversation.

“Don’t get me wrong, old girl, I’m so thankful that you saved me,” The Doctor’s voice carries from the other side of the room, hidden from view behind the centre console, “But I can’t go on like this much longer.”

If Yaz wasn’t mistaken, she could hear tears in the Doctor’s voice.

“I know, I know,” The Doctor sniffs as the TARDIS hums at her, “But I’m a traveller, I want to see the stars and protect those that can’t protect themselves. I can’t do anything for myself anymore! Yaz should be out there, living her life to its fullest but instead she’s slaving away trying to help me.” The Doctor is silent for a moment, listening to the murmur of her ship.

“I know, I’m just frustrated,” She vents, “When I’m feeling at my lowest I can’t even have a cup of tea and a custard cream.” The Doctor chuckles dryly before falling silent and Yaz decides she should make her presence known, but when she rounds the console she can see the tears dripping down the other woman’s face as she looks at the ground.

“I don’t know what to do,” The Doctor whispers before Yaz gets a chance to intervene, “Yes I was saved, but now I’m here, stuck in this purgatory somewhere between life and death and I don’t know what’s worse!” She wipes angrily at her cheek.

“Maybe I should have died.” The Doctor admits, to the alarm of the TARDIS and Yaz.

“Doctor, that’s not true,” She steps in, and the Doctor’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yaz…” The Doctor fights to keep another tear from falling but loses, “How much of that did you hear?” She looks away, trying but failing to school her features once more.

“Enough.” Yaz replies, trying to blink back the emotions in her own eyes.

“I…” The Doctor falters, not able to form the words to explain herself. Yaz steps closer so they are mere centimetres apart.

“It’s okay, Doctor,” Yaz puts the bravest smile she can muster on her face, “I’m in this for the long haul, we’re going to figure this out no matter how long it takes, okay?” She itches to reach out and hold the Doctor’s hand and it kills her that she can’t.

“But– ”

“No buts, Doctor. We’re going to help you see the universe again,” Yaz looks up, now addressing the TARDIS, “Aren’t we?” She asks, and the ship’s lights go haywire as she whirs in agreement.

The Doctor cracks a small smile.

“All isn’t lost, okay?” Yaz ducks her head to meet the Doctor’s eye. She nods.

“Just promise me you’ll tell me next time you feel like this,” Yaz continues, “I really care about you, Doctor. I want to help.”

She looks up at the Doctor, a bashful smile gracing the brunette’s features.

“Okay,” The Doctor sighs with a roll of her eyes, “This isn’t where I wanted to be,” she gestures around them, “But we can work with this.”

For the first time that day the Doctor beams a full smile.

That night the Doctor is finally able to convince Yaz to retire to her TARDIS bedroom once the research becomes too much. It wasn’t easy, but after Yaz rubbed at her bleary eyes for the umpteenth time she listened to reason at last.

Once Yaz is finally tucked up in bed, the Doctor stays true to her promise, settling herself against the headboard and resigning to the long night ahead. After a while she gets bored and begins to list her favourite galaxies in her head, but the thought of the stars starts to grate on her already sombre mood.

Distracting herself, the Doctor looks down at Yaz’s prone form beside her, noting how completely exhausted she appears, the lines in her face prominent as she frowns in her sleep.

The TARDIS hums.

“I’m glad I told her too,” The Doctor sighs at the ceiling, “I’m just scared that this’ll give her even more reason to push past her limits.” The Doctor gestures with her hands. The TARDIS gives an answering hum.

“You’ve seen for yourself that she refuses to listen,” The Doctor reasons with the ship, “I’ll think of something.” She promises with a faux confident nod of her head.

“I hope.” She groans.

When Yaz leaves the TARDIS early next morning it’s with a resigned sigh. As she makes her way into the building she mulls over the options she and the Doctor have left. They only have two books left of the viable ones found in the TARDIS library and they’ve found… Nothing.

Nothing that will help them, anyway.

Yaz doesn’t want to give up; she isn’t giving up. They just need another option – try something new.

They need to do what the Doctor does best and think outside of the box.

As Yaz approaches her front door she pulls her keys out of her pocket, opening the door as quietly as she can. Tiptoeing over the threshold, Yaz turns and closes the door with a wince as it clicks shut.

“Yasmin.” Busted, Yaz groans internally. 

Turning with a grimace, Yaz faces her parents waiting for her, wrapped in their dressing gowns.

“Yes mum?” Yaz asks, feigning innocence and ignoring the way her mum’s arms are crossed. She’s antsy to leave and head straight to her bed but Najia’s frown pins her to the spot.

“Where have you been, love? And don’t lie to us,” She adds when Yaz opens her mouth, “We’re not blind! We know you’ve been out all hours of the night and sneaking back in before you think we’ve noticed.”

Wow, so they’re more observant than she thought.

“What your mum’s trying to say,” Hakim interrupts, a kinder tone to his voice, “We’re worried about you, Yaz. We never see you anymore, and we’re concerned about your state of mind.”

Yaz doesn’t know what to say. Najia sighs.

“Just tell us what’s going on.”

Silence.

Najia takes a few steps towards Yaz.

“Losing people is difficult. I know that. And it’s okay to grieve,” she says to her daughter. “Just, let us help you.”

Yaz can hardly look her parents in the eyes. If she tells them the truth they’ll never believe her, but if she doesn’t they’ll keep pushing for answers. She’s stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“I…” She starts, but her voice fades as all sensible words disappear from her mind.

“Please, Yasmin.” Her Dad interrupts her, and Yaz suddenly feels exposed under her parents’ scrutiny. She throws her guard back up in a panic.

“I’m fine, guys. Seriously.” Yaz waves them off with a miserable attempt at a smile and her mum’s brow furrows with worry, reaching out to pull Yaz into a hug.

“Please Yaz, we know you miss the Doc –”

“I said I’m fine.” Yaz’s voice hardens, and she sidesteps Najia’s open arms, “I’m going to bed.” She hurries to her bedroom, the door thudding shut behind her.

Najia turns to Hakim.

“What do we do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, reviews are always greatly appreciated!


	5. 5

“What now?” Yaz turns to the Doctor beside her.

They’re sitting together in the library, surrounded by the towering piles of books, and they’ve just finished the last one.

The last of the books that gave them a glimmer of hope of finding something to help the Doctor – to bring her back. Yaz sighs in defeat as her question hangs in the air.

“I don’t know what to do, Yaz,” Her heart tears in two when the Doctor’s voice breaks, and when she turns her head there’s tears in the other woman’s eyes.

Yaz shifts to sit sideways on the sofa to face her.

“Doctor this isn't over,” Yaz tells her as tears begin to swell in her own eyes. She can see the Doctor’s hands shake as she fiddles with them in her lap, eventually lifting one to her face and toying with her lip. Her gaze is fixed on the fireplace ahead as she blinks away tears that fall furiously regardless.

“Doctor, listen to me, we’re going to think of something.” Yaz insists over the sound of her heart beating in her throat, so terrifyingly sad for the woman in front of her that she’s grown to care for so, so much.

“Like what, Yaz?” The Doctor says suddenly, rising quickly to her feet in misplaced anger, “We’ve been searching for weeks and haven’t found anything.” She drops back down to the sofa in defeat and covers her face with her hands.

“I’m stuck like this.” She mumbles into her fingers, chest heaving as she reels for breaths. The realisation has been at the edge of her mind for weeks but she’d kept it buried until now, where it was becoming startlingly real. 

“No, no Doctor,” Yaz hurries to reassure her, painfully wishing she could reach out and grasp her shaking hands, “We just need to think of something else, look at it from a different point of view - a new perspective.”

The Doctor stills then, her interest piqued. She hesitantly turns her gaze to look at Yaz, who can see the raw and unmasked pain in the Doctor’s eyes; something which she has only recently become privy to. It makes Yaz feel somewhat special, despite the awful situation. 

“In what way?” The Doctor asks, studying Yaz’s face. 

“Well,” Yaz starts, but quickly halts to gather her words. She stands and begins to pace back and forth between the Doctor and the coffee table, “We’ve spent these last few months wondering why you didn’t regenerate – researching why your DNA didn’t rewrite itself when you died.”

The Doctor sits up a little straighter.

“Yeah, and?”

“Well, what have we been missing?” Yaz elaborates, “Think about what happened.”

“I don’t know,” The Doctor shakes her head, “I got shot in the chest and then…” She trails off and looks up at Yaz, stumped.

“Whatever it was that shot you,” Yaz sits back down, her face so close to the Doctor’s that she can imagine the little puffs of air that should be hitting her lip, “It wasn’t a coincidence, they were aiming at you. They knew what they were doing – following us through the time vortex and hitting you square in the chest. It was calculated.”

The Doctor’s eyes widen.

“They must have known I wouldn’t regenerate.” She states, semi-confidently. Yaz nods encouragingly.

“Exactly! Whatever they shot you with was designed to stop your regenerating.”

“But what species would have that knowledge?” The Doctor frowns, “And the technology?”

“Exactly, Doctor,” Yaz nods, “That’s what we need to look for. If we find out what technology they used to block your regeneration we might be able to –”

“– Bring me back!” The Doctor’s eyes widen at the realisation, “Yaz you’re brilliant!” She grins, tear-soaked eyes piercing Yaz’s own.

“I don’t know about that, Doctor,” Yaz reasons, bashful at her friend’s praise, “But it’s a good place to start.”

“No Yaz, you don’t understand,” The Doctor replies, and Yaz realises just how close their faces are, “I was out of ideas – just about ready to give up. I was resigning myself to an eternity of being an observer and not being able to do anything about it. But this? We have so many more avenues to search now, so many possibilities. So don’t sell yourself short, my brilliant Yaz. Even though I’m stuck as a ghost of who I once was, you’ve…”

The Doctor’s voice trails off and she sniffs as a wave of emotion rolls over her.

“You’ve given me _hope_ , don’t you see?” Her eyes glisten again, “I could kiss you, Yaz.” Her voice breaks on the last word, and Yaz lets her tears fall too. Yaz’s heart rips in two for the second time that evening when she realises just how much she wishes she could kiss the Doctor in return.

She glances down at her lap and sees how close she is sitting to the other woman despite not feeling her beside her.

“I just want you back, Doctor.” Yaz’s face crumples and she is suddenly struggling to maintain her composure, “I miss you so much.”

“And you’ll get me back,” The Doctor nods, reassured, “It may take some time, but we’ll get there because I believe in us. You give me hope, Yaz.” She offers Yaz a small but hopeful smile.

“You’ve given me the universe, Doctor.” Yaz smiles, “And I can’t wait to travel it again by your side.”

They remain side by side on the sofa until Yaz’s alarm blares early the next morning, and while it physically hurts to know how much her friend is suffering, she gets ready for the day with a new-found vigour.

They’re going to bring the Doctor home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments!! 
> 
> Since this is a shorter chapter I may be convinced to post the next one tomorrow...  
> I'm really excited for where this story is going and can't wait to share it with you all :)


	6. 6

When Yaz arrives in the TARDIS after work the next evening, she finds the Doctor hard at work in the console room.

She’d made a pit stop at home to grab some clean clothes and a hurried mouthful of cheerios to keep the growling of her stomach at bay. Yaz had hoped that she’d make it in and out of the empty flat before any of her family members returned home for the day, but she’d bumped into her mum on the way out.

“Yaz, talk to us,” Her mum had begged, and Yaz felt somewhat guilty at the way she’d brushed her mum off. She wouldn’t have understood, anyway.

“What’re you up to?” Yaz asks the Doctor, shaking those thoughts from her head as she approaches the centre console. The monitors are littered with a mix of alien species that she recognises and some that she doesn’t, and the Doctor has clearly been deep in conversation with the TARDIS.

“Well,” The Doctor starts excitedly, “The TARDIS is helping me compile a list of possible species that I’ve encountered in the past and have the technology to- Well, you know.” She explains.

Yaz grabs the monitor and uses her finger to scrub through the list of potential suspects.

“This is quite the list, Doctor.” She broaches tentatively but grabs her notebook from her bag and hurries to take notes.

“I know, I know,” The Doctor brushes off the notion with a wave of her hand, “Anyway, I was having a think about when I got shot, and I have some questions.” Yaz looks up from her notes to raise an eyebrow.

“Like what?” She asks. 

“How much of it do you remember? It’s a little bit fuzzy,” She gestures at her head, “All I can remember is a really bright light.” Yaz nods.

“That’s pretty much how it happened,” She agrees, “It was like a bolt of lightning zapped you square in the chest, and then everything – I don’t know – exploded? The whole room went white and then I woke up and we were back in Sheffield.” The Doctor chews on her lip in thought.

“Interesting.” She hums.

“What do you think that means?” Yaz presses, pausing to look up briefly from her notetaking.

“I’m not sure yet, but it definitely means something,” The Doctor frowns, “I think.” She darts around the console, unable to stand still as her brain works at a lightyear a minute.

“Have I ever told you, Yaz?” She looks up from her notes at the excitement in the Doctor’s voice and the apparent fire returned to her belly, “I love a mystery.” 

Later, the Doctor is deep in conversation with the TARDIS over the potential sources of the beam of light. Yaz’s thoughts had begun to drift, and she’d taken a seat on the stairs a while ago when she realised she had no idea what the Doctor or the TARDIS were talking about, deciding to just let the pair get on with it. 

Yaz finds it difficult to smother a smile at the Doctor’s antics as the woman practically skips around the console, gesturing wildly with her hands to emphasize her supposed point. The TARDIS whirrs in response. 

“Yes, exactly!” She exclaims.

It’s refreshing to see the Doctor so… her again. 

Reinvigorated; back to her old self. Kind of.

Not only has Yaz been exhausted both physically and mentally as they both scoured the TARDIS library top to bottom, but she’s missed the Doctor more than anything, and she’d do anything to help her.  
She’s missed the bubbly blonde’s exuberant demeanour, bouncing around the room like she is now, an excitable puppy. And of course, she’ll always want to support the Doctor no matter how dark times become.

If Yaz tries hard enough she can almost convince herself that these are the old times, tasting them on the tip of her tongue.

It’s as if they’re minutes away from landing on the alien planet of the day, and any second now Graham and Ryan will appear in the console room bickering about what film they’re going to watch when they return to the TARDIS. Inevitably they’ll never get around to watching the film, because the Doctor will get them caught up in some grand scheme that absolutely needs their attention. 

Then, right when they think all is lost, the Doctor will come to a staggering revelation that eventually saves the day, and everyone will be super impressed like always. Especially after she’s come to the conclusion that she’s done something extra clever. Like right now.

“Isn’t that right, Yaz?” The Doctor asks her, interrupting Yaz’s thoughts.

“Of course, Doctor,” Yaz smiles, “Couldn’t have put it better myself.” It’s best to at least pretend she was listening to the Doctor’s spiel. 

“Oh, so you’ll do it then?” The Doctor is closer to her now, and Yaz quickly tries to catch up.

“Do what?” Yaz asks, and the Doctor puts her hands on her own hips.

“I knew you weren’t listening, Yaz.” She feigns a groan, pretending to roll her eyes as they twinkle in amusement. 

“Sorry,” Yaz grins, not apologetic in the slightest, “What did you want me to do?” She stands from her perch on the stairs. 

“You still have my sonic, don’t you?” The Doctor asks instead, and Yaz pulls it from her jacket pocket, having been keeping it safe on her person whilst the Doctor couldn’t protect it herself. “I need you to scan me.” 

Yaz frowns.

“I thought we already did that.” The Doctor shakes her head. 

“No, Yaz. I need you to scan my body.” To the brunette’s horror, the Doctor gestures to the door at the side of the room, to where they had stored the Doctor’s body per the ship’s instructions. 

“I can’t go in there, Doctor,” Yaz explains, her eyes wide at the thought, “I can’t see you like that.” 

“Yaz,” The Doctor placates, stepping closer, “We need to scan the wound from the blast if we want to have any hope of figuring out what technology caused it.” 

Yaz avoids the Doctor’s gaze as she mentally prepares herself, before eventually pulling the Doctor’s sonic from her pocket. 

“Alright,” She sighs, “Let’s get this over with.”

The heavy metal door opens with a whine, and Yaz takes a moment in the doorway. The room is dark, and the light spilling from the console room lights up the bench in the centre of the room. 

Yaz can feel the Doctor’s presence at her shoulder.

“It’s okay, Yaz.” She reassures her, “I’m right here.” 

The police officer gives herself a few moments to breathe before she steps into the room, closer to… her. 

They’d left the Doctor’s body lying on her back, hands coming together to rest on her stomach. If it wasn’t for the hole in her shirts displaying damaged skin beneath, it looks as if she is just resting. 

She hasn’t changed a bit. When Yaz reaches out a tentative hand to gently grasp the Doctor’s own - the first bit of contact they’ve had in weeks - she gasps. The Doctor’s skin is still warm. 

“Doctor, how -” The Doctor cuts her off.

“It’s a stasis chamber, Yaz.” The Doctor gives Yaz a second to figure it out, but carries on when she doesn’t, “It’s holding my body in the state it was that you put me in there, do you know what that means?” 

Yaz frowns as she toys with the sonic screwdriver in her hand, thinking it over. 

“The TARDIS has preserved you?” The Doctor nods.

“As long as my body stays in here, it’s as if I’ve only just died. All we need to figure out is how to put me back in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments on the last chapter, they really mean a lot. Writing and putting yourself out there can be quite scary, and comments really help. Don't underestimate the power of your comments as a reader, even if they're just a word or two I love to see them :)


	7. 7

A few days later Yaz arrives in the TARDIS fresh from work.

“Hiya Yaz, good day at work?” The Doctor asks, noticing Yaz’s worse-for-wear appearance. The circles under her eyes are more pronounced than ever, and she’s squinting in the orange glow of the console room – a headache, the blonde suspects.

Yaz seems to have been on the tail end of the painful condition far more often in recent months, and it hurts the Doctor to know that it is for her own sake. Between work and helping her research, she’s been… stressed. When was the last time Yaz had even had a full night’s sleep?

“Fine thanks,” Yaz answers, and the Doctor doesn’t need a mind reader to know that the police officer is deflecting. “What’s the plan for this evening? I was thinking that we should check the TARDIS library for biomechanics.”

“Oh, that? Nah,” The Doctor waves a hand dismissively, “Don’t fancy doing that tonight, why don’t we have a chill?” The Doctor asks. It’s a bad attempt at getting Yaz to relax and the Doctor knows it, but she’s not going down without a fight.

Yaz’s eyes narrow suspiciously, and the Doctor curses her friend’s impeccable intuition.

“What are you talking about?” She asks.

“Come on, let’s do something fun tonight. I’ve almost forgotten what fun is,” The Doctor whines like the child she is and hopes she’s getting somewhere. “Let’s relax a little.”

Yaz’s brow continues to furrow, but the corner of her lips begin to curl; the Doctor knows she’s on to a winner.

“You don’t even know the meaning of relaxing.” Yaz is all but whining back at her now, but there’s a shine in her eyes that has been missing in recent weeks.

“Oi, yes I do!” The Doctor retorts, but relents when Yaz raises her eyebrows, “Okay, fine. But let’s watch a film at the very least.” With that, the Doctor turns and races up the stairs and into the bowels of the TARDIS, leaving Yaz to follow behind her.

A little while later the pair are curled up in front of the TV. As the movie “Coco” plays, the Doctor can’t help but steal glances of her friend when she thinks she isn’t looking.

At face value, Yaz looks drained. The dark circles under her eyes are more prominent than ever. Her clothes hang looser than usual on her frame, and the Doctor stifles a gasp when she realises that her friend has lost a fair bit of weight.

The Doctor’s eyes peer at the snacks the TARDIS kindly left for Yaz on the coffee table. The brunette had merely picked at the popcorn before claiming she was full, but the Doctor knows Yaz didn’t stop off for long at home after work and hasn’t eaten. At least she had drank a cup of tea, the Doctor reasons, though knows this isn’t enough to sustain her friend.

Yaz has been pushing herself too hard, and without Graham or Ryan around there’s no one here to catch her if she falls. They spend a lot of time together, but without the ability to physically help the Doctor has no idea what she would do if Yaz needed her, let alone in an emergency. The Doctor’s musings pause when she hears a sniffle from her counterpart.

“Yaz?” She scoots down the sofa to where her friend is curled up, tear-streamed face half hidden by a blanket, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” She admits, steadfastly refusing to look the Doctor in the eye, “I don’t even know why I’m crying.” Yaz chokes out a self-deprecating laugh.

The Doctor’s eyes flicker up at the television screen as Miguel begins to sing “Remember Me,” and she realises how painfully ironic it is.

“Please tell me next time you’re upset.” The Doctor insists, once again painfully wishing that she could reach out and offer the woman she has grown incredibly close to some comfort.

Yaz is silent as she toys with the blanket in her grasp, regretting how easily she was reduced to tears.

“Please, Yaz.” Eventually the Doctor receives a nod.

“I will,” Yaz offers a small smile at the Doctor, “Maybe we should watch something else though.”

A few hours later the Doctor looks to her right to see Yaz’s eyes slowly blinking in an awful – but respectable – attempt at staying awake and resigns herself to another night of waiting.

Suddenly Yaz’s phone vibrates on the arm of the chair, startling her into a more lucid state, but flips her phone over when she sees that it is merely a text from her mum, but not before the Doctor notices the time.

“Are you working tomorrow?” The Doctor asks out of nowhere. Yaz needs a few moments to process the question. 

“Mm hmm.” Yaz confirms, rubbing her eyes tiredly. If she didn’t look so tired the Doctor would find it cute.

The Doctor gets up from the sofa and sits on the coffee table opposite Yaz.

“Maybe it’s best you head off and get a good night’s sleep.” The Doctor suggests.

“What? I’m not leaving!” Yaz objects, “I’m not even tired.” The Doctor raises an eyebrow and sighs.

“Yaz.” The Doctor leans forwards and rests her elbows on her knees. It’s hard for her to see Yaz so downtrodden.

“You really want me to leave?” She asks, and the Doctor wishes she could remove the little pout from Yaz’s face. “But I’ve hardly seen you today.” It hurts the Doctor to know that she’s caused the pool of tears forming in Yaz’s eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave, Yaz, promise,” The Doctor pushes, “but you need to take care of yourself. What’s the point in bringing me back if there’s no Yaz for me to come back to?”

Yaz sighs.

“Okay, fine,” Yaz relents. “But I’m not happy about it.” She jokingly warns.

“Noted,” The Doctor grins, “Get some rest, okay?” She asks as Yaz lazily pushes herself upright and forces her laced-up trainers onto socked feet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yaz groans before almost losing her footing.

“And be careful, I need my Yaz in one piece.” Yaz looks down at the Doctor, a small smile on her lips.

“I’ll try.” She pauses in the doorway. “See you tomorrow, Doctor.”

Yaz makes her way quickly through her flat with bated breath and breathes a sigh of relief when she makes it to her bedroom without her family bombarding her with questions that she doesn’t want to answer.

After visiting the bathroom and dressing down Yaz flops unceremoniously onto her bed. She’s used to researching with the Doctor late into the night, and now that she isn’t… she’s alone with her thoughts, which is exactly what she has been trying to avoid.

Throwing herself into her job and helping the Doctor helps her to keep the gnawing weight off of her shoulders.

Yaz tucks her hand under the pillow and wills herself to not let her emotions get the better of her. She fails.

When she is alone with her thoughts only one question is at the forefront of her mind: What if they can’t bring the Doctor back?

A tear drips down her cheek and plops onto her pillow.

What if the Doctor is stuck, and she remains the only person that will ever be able to see her? She will be forever reminded of how much she cares for the other woman. How much she loves her.

_Oh shit._

She loves the Doctor. And regardless if she feels the same way, if they don’t bring the Doctor back to life they can never be together. Yaz’s breath hitches as she chokes out a sob.

They have to make this work – they have no choice.

Someone is knocking at the door. Yaz turns to face the window as the door opens.

“Yaz, you okay love?” Her mum asks. Yaz doesn’t reply, and Najia leaves with a sigh.

As Yaz falls into a fitful sleep she resolves to never stop looking. She will bring the Doctor back to her, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorryyyy Yaz :(
> 
> Thank you so so much for your comments on the previous chapter. It makes me so happy to hear that you guys are enjoying this story.


	8. 8

When Yaz arrives in the TARDIS after work, it is to the sound of the Doctor seemingly arguing with the time ship.

“What do you mean?” The Doctor asks with arms wide, exasperated, “How could I possibly- Oh, hey Yaz.” She says when she spots her somewhat bemused companion.

“What’s going on?” Yaz asks, gesturing towards the centre console as the TARDIS whines. The Doctor shrugs.

“Ignore her,” She waves her hand, a warm smile on her lips. It drops when she sees the tiredness still painted on the younger woman’s face.

“Did you manage to get any sleep last night?” The Doctor asks.

“A bit.” Yaz replies tersely, and the Doctor’s concern appears to increase tenfold. “I couldn’t get to sleep.” She offers as an explanation.

“How come?” Yaz shrugs in response.

“Just thinking about things.” She replies, chewing on her lip and trying not to look the Doctor in the eye.

The Doctor steps a little closer, her eyes glowing in the warm lighting of the console room.

“Is everything okay, Yaz?” She asks, “I’m really worried about you.”

Yaz opens her mouth to brush off the Doctor’s concerns, but the Doctor interrupts.

“I know you’re not eating properly or sleeping enough. And don’t try and downplay this,” The Doctor warns at the look on Yaz’s face, “Because I know that you’re trying to help me, but please don’t do it at your own expense.”

“But-” Yaz tries to interrupt, her eyes clouding with tears to match the Doctor’s own.

“Please don’t risk your own health, I’m not worth it, Yaz.” The woman in question gasps, outraged at the suggestion.

“How could you say that, Doctor, of course you are!” She’s shouting now.

“How am I, Yaz?” The Doctor’s voice breaks, “You should be out there, enjoying your life, not waiting around for me and making yourself ill in the process.” Yaz sniffs.

“Well too bad, Doctor. You have me and I’m not leaving.” She replies stubbornly. 

“How can you care about me so much?” The Doctor asks, exasperated. 

“Because I _love you_ , you idiot!”

Oh.

Her words hang in the air for what feels like forever and Yaz steadfastly keeps her gaze to the floor. The Doctor is standing stock-still, searching for the right words to express how she feels.

Yaz mistakes it as rejection.

“I… I’m just going to go…” Yaz turns on the spot and heads towards the TARDIS doors, but the Doctor rushes around her, holding out an arm that they both know can’t stop Yaz.

“No! Please wait, Yaz.” The Doctor ducks her head to meet Yaz’s eyes. There’s a vulnerability there and the Doctor hates that she’s the one that caused it.

“It’s okay, Doctor,” Yaz bites, blinking back more tears. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way.”

“Yaz, of course I do.” The Doctor insists to Yaz’s utter surprise, her heart leaping in her throat, “Why do you think the TARDIS chose you to help me?” She swallows against the tears.

“Doctor are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Yaz chuckles, tears running freely down her cheeks once more. The blonde nods.

“I think the TARDIS knew all along,” The Doctor lets out a breathy laugh as the console room lights up with the ship’s agreement. “I _love_ you, Yaz.”

The pair both meet the heart-wrenching realisation that they’re so close, yet so far from each other at the same time. Yaz sniffles.

“I really wish I could kiss you, Doctor.” She’s practically sobbing at this point; she must look like a right mess.

“Me too, Yaz.”

She can’t decide what’s worse, the Doctor not feeling the same way, or knowing she does but not being able to act on it. Wow, that stings.

They stand for a moment and drink in the sight of each other, completely unguarded.

“So,” Yaz quirks a lip, “What do we do now?” She asks her counterpart, gesturing at the console room around them.

“We push on,” The Doctor replies, “We keep trying.”

They make their way up the stairs and down the hall to the library, determination renewed. 

After Yaz falls into a fitful sleep after hours of work in the library, the Doctor has her usual mooch around the TARDIS to settle her raging thoughts. She weaves in and out of rooms, moving through the swimming pool, games room, and casts her usual yearning gaze into her cluttered workshop.

The Doctor moves to carry on further down the corridor when the TARDIS whirrs at her, and she backtracks in surprise.

“What is it, old girl?” The Doctor glances at the ceiling, “There’s something in my workshop?” The lights flash incessantly.

The Doctor takes a second to take stock of the room from the doorway before stepping inside – but pauses again a few paces in.

Her table in the centre of the room has been cleared of everything save for a lone pencil. But who could have moved it? The only person ever on the time ship nowadays is Yaz, and she would have mentioned if she’d been in her workshop.

“What’s going on?” The Doctor asks the ceiling accusingly, directing her suspicion at the TARDIS. The ship bloops and bleeps in response.

“Not this again! I can’t move it,” The Doctor grumbles under her breath and gestures at the pencil, “I can’t move anything, I’m basically a ghost, remember?” She rolls her eyes when the TARDIS insists.

“If I give it a try will you pipe down?” The Doctor grumbles under her breath, “And less of the cheek, madam.” The Doctor perches on the bench in front of the table, and with a slow shaking hand reaches out to prod the pencil.

Her hand glitches, passing straight through it.

“See!” She declares at the ceiling, which whirrs in return. The Doctor scoffs, “And I _was_ concentrating!”

The Doctor screws her face up in thought – maybe the TARDIS is onto something. She huffs and resigns herself to giving it another try.

She’s a telepathic being and connected to her TARDIS via its mainframe for Rassilion’s sake; there’s no reason she shouldn’t be able to move something. 

The Doctor sighs and places her hands on her temples, closing her eyes tightly. Her fingers screw tightly into her hair and she tenses in deep concentration.

She opens an eye and peers at the pencil.

Not a flicker.

She tries again.

This time she imagines herself physically moving the pencil, pushing forward her hopes and emotions and wills it to move with every fibre of her being.

She growls under her breath – this isn’t working.

Instead she pictures Yaz, her beautiful Yaz, who so desperately wishes to help her. The woman that the Doctor is so close to but can’t be with whilst she remains in this purgatory. The Doctor feels the anger at this injustice build inside her. It’s not fair that they are so close yet so far from each other at the same time. Her knuckles whiten as her hair-entangled hands continue to squeeze at her temples, and she briefly wonders if this would hurt if she were alive.

This only serves as a reminder of what is at stake, and the Doctor pushes her mind outward, eyes clamped shut and drinking in the beauty of Yaz’s rare smile in her mind’s eye.

The woman that she loves.

A tinkling sound stuns the Doctor, and she releases her hands and opens her eyes with bated breath.

The pencil rolls across the table and drops to the floor.

“Oh, brilliant.” The Doctor breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your amazing comments
> 
> I'll just be over here not knowing how to react to _that_ finale  
> Come and rant to me on tumblr @ginger-cheekbones  
> (also please no spoilers here BunheadKitKat19 is American and is still waiting for the episode to air lmao)


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: This chapter contains some mentions of disordered eating.

It’s a few days since the Doctor and Yaz admitted their feelings to each other, and while the Doctor is glad that her feelings are out in the open, Yaz has been more overworked than ever, constantly working away in the TARDIS while she’s not on the job.

The Doctor studies the brunette as she pursues a book on cybernetic organisms, hoping it will shed some light on the Doctor’s essence being downloaded onto the TARDIS systems. The silence is broken by Yaz’s stomach growling angrily.

“Yaz,” The Doctor sighs, not ready to fight this argument again but knowing she will have to, “Yaz go get something to eat, it’s been hours.” The police officer is on call today, so she arrived bright and early in the TARDIS, where she has remained for hours on end.

The Doctor doubts the woman has even eaten breakfast, and it’s drawing on 6pm.

“I’m not hungry.” Yaz mumbles, not even pausing to draw her head away from the book in her lap.

“Yaz.” The Doctor tries again and is ignored. Instead she stands and moves to sit on the coffee table opposite the brunette, as close as she can get.

“Please, Yasmin.” The Doctor pleads, and her full name gives Yaz pause. She blinks up from the book.

“I’m really not hungry, Doctor,” She insists until her stomach growls again. The Doctor gives her a pointed look, “I don’t have time, I’m almost there, I can feel it.”

“But Yaz, I – ”

“No, Doctor,” Yaz plops the book from her lap to the sofa beside her, “All we need to do is figure out how to plant the files that the TARDIS saved back into your body, I think I’m getting closer.”

The Doctor’s retort is close to the tip of her tongue when Yaz’s phone buzzes to life.

“Yasmin Khan,” She answers the call, and the Doctor’s head drops into her hands, “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” Yaz hangs up and gathers her belongings.

“I’ve got to go to work.” She tells the Doctor, avoiding her eyes, “I’ll see you later, yeah?” The Doctor stands.

“Promise me you’ll eat something at least? You’ll be dead on your feet.” The concern in the Doctor’s eyes makes Yaz feel guilty.

“I’ll try,” She relents, “Don’t have too much fun without me.” And with that Yaz is gone and the Doctor is alone again.

Najia has just finished making a cup of tea when Yaz barges through the door, hurrying past into her bedroom. She follows her daughter, standing in the doorway as she gets herself ready.

“Yasmin, can we talk?” Najia asks sadly, feeling as if she hasn’t seen her daughter properly in weeks. She’s grown very adept at avoiding her family.

“I’ve got to go to work.” Yaz replies, pulling her hoodie from her frame. Najia tries not to react when her ribs become visible and display how little she has been eating lately. Yaz pulls on her work shirt and buttons it up as she races around the room in a hurry to grab her things.

“Well can we talk later?” Najia steps closer to Yaz so she has no choice but to look at her, “I’m worried about you, you never speak to me anymore.” She blocks Yaz’s exit from the room.

“I don’t know when I’ll finish tonight,” Yaz argues, “And for the record, I’m fine, you can stop worrying.” Yaz takes a step back when Najia crosses her arms in annoyance.

“You’re not, Yaz. And don’t even get me started on where you go all day, and don’t try and fob me off again and say you’re with Graham and Ryan.” Her mum glares, “They called round at lunchtime, said you’ve not answered any of their calls in months. They’re your friends, Yasmin, and they lost the Doctor too.”

“Mum, let’s not do this now,” Yaz moans, deflecting, “I need to go.” 

“I feel like I’m losing you,” Najia cries when Yaz pushes past and heads for the door, “Yaz please.”

The front door closes behind her daughter with an air of finality.

As soon as Yaz arrives, her and her partner Sara are quickly called in for a domestic in a nearby neighbourhood after locals reported a disturbance.

“Police!” Yaz calls out as she knocks on the door. No response. Muffled shouting can be heard, likely from upstairs. Sara takes a step back from the door to look at the upstairs window, seeing the shadows of two adults backlit on the curtains. One shadow grabs the other by the arm.

“We’ve got to get in there.” Sara tells Yaz. She nods.

“Police!” She bangs harder on the door this time before reaching out and trying the handle. Thankfully the door is unlocked. They take a steadying breath together before entering and ascending the stairs.

They call again as the shouts get louder.

“Police! Step away from her!” Yaz shouts as they enter the bedroom at the top of the stairs, “Put your hands in the air!” The man is holding the woman’s wrist tightly in his grip. She has a bloody lip but no other visible injuries that Yaz can see. 

“I said,” Yaz repeats, louder this time, “Hands _up_.” He turns to look Yaz in the eye, challenging her. Yaz holds his gaze steady. He releases his grip. 

The woman tears away from him, and Sara ushers her around Yaz and out safely into the hallway.

“Hands in the air.” Yaz says again. She blinks and he steps closer to her, a dangerous look in his eye.

“Says who?” He asks, taking a glance at her name badge, “Officer Khan?” He steps forwards threateningly again, and Yaz uses all of her will to resist standing down, quickly realising that she is alone with him. 

“Yes, says me.” She replies defiantly, before turning to look over her shoulder at her partner and the distressed woman down the stairs, “Get her outside, Sara.” She turns back to the man, whose fingers have curled into fists at his side.

“Get out of my way.” He mutters to her, sharp breath stinging her nostrils, their faces inches apart.

“No.” He steps forwards again, forcing her further back. She can feel the top step of the stairs under her feet now, and knows she has nowhere else to go - but she won’t back down.

Back on the TARDIS the Doctor is startled by the time machine blaring warnings into her head.

“What? Yaz is in danger?” She clambers to her feet from the steps in the console room, “Send me to her.” 

“Out of my way, or you’re going to make me do something you’ll regret.” The man’s dark eyes stir fear in Yaz’s stomach. She jumps when a flash to her side catches her eye and a fuzzy, glitching image of the Doctor appears.

“ _Doctor?_ ” Yaz asks in confusion, momentarily thrown.

“Yaz.” The Doctor gasps as the man uses Yaz’s distraction to grab her by the wrist, holding it against her front and threatening to push her down the stairs at any moment.

“ _Get away from her!_ ” The Doctor screams with eyes wide in fear, stepping forwards, and for a brief second it’s like the man heard her. The Doctor slams her eyes closed and pushes her mind outwards, picturing the man flying away from Yaz like she imagined the pencil on the table.

Instead the lightbulb above them explodes, raining glass. The man’s cruel smile is the last thing Yaz sees as he pushes her backwards down the stairs, the Doctor screaming her name.

“Doctor.” Yaz groans, opening her eyes and seeing a blur of masses and shapes around her, not able to focus on any of it. Her head feels fuzzy and she faintly wonders if the metallic taste in her mouth is blood.

“Yes, the paramedics are here, Yaz,” She can hear Sara saying above her, “They’re going to take care of you. You’re going to be okay.”

She shuts her eyes again at the assault of pain as she is lifted onto a stretcher, but as they begin to wheel her away she spots what appears to be the Doctor over Sara’s shoulder. Yaz can see the Doctor’s mouth moving but can’t make out her words.

The world’s getting heavier by the second and Yaz quickly loses herself to unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..... sorry not sorry
> 
> (feel free to rant at me in the comments lol)


	10. 10

When Yaz wakes up, she does so slowly.

It’s as if she is floating, and her mind struggles to remember what happened. Her eyes blink open sluggishly and it soon all comes flooding back.

“Yaz!” She hears, and she feels lips pressed against her forehead.

“Mum? What happened?” Yaz asks. An intrusive beeping sound surrounds her, and the bedsheets scratch her skin, “Where are we?”

She can see her parents exchanging a worried glance over her.

“We’re in A+E, you had an accident at work, love,” Najia tells her, and Yaz can hear the tears in her mum’s voice. It feels as if the walls are closing in, she needs to get out of here.

Yaz tries to sit up with a whine of pain in her arm but is pushed back down by her mum. Her hand remains on Yaz’s shoulder gently, but firm enough that she can’t try again.

“You need to stay still, Yaz.” Her dad tells her, “They’ve done a CT scan and your neck and spine are okay, but you have a concussion.” That explains the pain drumming away in her skull.

“Anything else?” Yaz asks, pondering the possibility of her bruises if the pain in the rest of her body is anything to go by. Her right ankle is absolutely pounding.

“They think your wrist and ankle might be broken.” Her mum tells her sadly, “They’re waiting on the result of some scans,” Yaz looks down to see her left arm encased in a splint. She gives an experimental wiggle of her fingers and hisses at the pain that ensues. 

Yaz reaches her other up arm up to scratch at her forehead, but Najia catches her fingers before she can do so.

“You’ve got a nasty cut on your head, try not to touch it.” Yaz tugs her hand free from her mother’s, who proceeds to gently run her fingers through her daughter’s hair.

Yaz’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

“Get some rest, Yasmin,” is the last thing she hears before she falls asleep.

Yaz isn’t discharged until the next afternoon. The x-rays showed that she only sprained her ankle – though it’s pretty painful all the same – and her left arm is broken.

The cast that runs from her hand all the way to the middle of her upper arm is the reason that her dad is pushing her down the hospital hallway via wheelchair; there’s no way she can handle crutches with the state of her arm. Sara had told the doctors that she’d landed on it when she fell, and Yaz had given her own statement to a colleague that morning – leaving out the part when the Doctor appeared from nowhere.

Yaz shudders, glad that she can only remember the event in bursts and flashes.

When they arrive home, her parents gently lift her from the wheelchair and deposit her on the sofa, despite her insistence that she’d prefer to be in her bedroom. After the hospital and her fretting parents, all she wants is some peace and quiet. Still, Yaz thinks as they fuss over her, fluffing a pillow for her to rest her ankle, it’s probably best to let them hover seeing how worried they’ve been lately.  
After her mum presses a mug of tea into her hands her parents thankfully retreat to the kitchen, and she tries to tune out their murmured conversation that she knows is about her. Yaz takes a glance around the room, feeling lost without the usual constant presence of the Doctor.

Yaz hums, feeling antsy. She’s been so busy lately that it feels wrong to just sit and do nothing. Her phone was cracked in the fall, so she doesn’t even have that to distract her.

Sonya emerges from her room then, and Yaz is grateful for the companionable silence that her sister offers.

“Another tea, Yaz?” Najia asks a few hours of Ru Paul’s Drag Race later.

“No ta, Mum.” Yaz groans, shifting on the sofa cushions, “It’s getting late, I think I’ll just go to bed.” Before her mum can stop her, Yaz shifts her weight and stands on her good leg. She takes an experimental step on her sprained ankle but quickly cries out, falling forwards and into the arms of her mum and Sonya.

“Yaz!”

“You need to let us help you, Yasmin!” Najia admonishes as she lets her daughter cling to her. Yaz’s eyes fill with tears, “You can’t make it on your own.”

“Sorry.” Is all she can choke out as Sonya ducks under her bad arm and wraps an arm around her waist.

It’s humiliating. She’s glad for their silence as they help her into the bathroom and then her bedroom, gently coaxing her into bed. Her mum fetches her a glass of water and her painkillers, and Yaz dutifully takes them under her mum’s watchful eye, feeling suitably chastised.

“Call if you need anything, alright love?” Najia kisses her gently on the forehead, avoiding the bandage over her temple. Yaz nods. Her mum moves to leave and finally Yaz has some room to breathe.

“Mum, could you shut the-” And she’s gone. “Door.” Yaz breathes, before letting her head fall back to the pillow with a thud, which she really regrets after the burst of pain in her skull that accompanies the movement.

It isn’t until she’s alone that Yaz realises she’d rather not be alone with her thoughts again, but the idea of calling her mum back to sit with her at the age of twenty years old is an embarrassment. She sighs, shifting under her bedsheets until she finds a comfortable position with her ankle elevated on a pillow, courtesy of Sonya.

Soon enough the painkillers kick in, and she is pulled into sleep.

When Yaz wakes with a jolt, the flat is silent. Her door is still open, but the hallway is in darkness; her family must be sleeping. She gently pushes herself upright with her good hand so that she can lean back against the headboard, trying to slow her erratic breathing.

She had dreamed she was falling backwards infinitely, constantly waiting to hit the ground at the bottom of the stairs and hearing the Doctor’s shouts fading into the distance. 

Yaz scratches at the top of her cast. She really wishes the Doctor were here right now.

“Yaz?” The brunette looks up at the sound of a familiar voice, her pained face stretching into an uncomfortable smile as the Doctor’s glitching form appears in her doorway.

“Doctor?” Yaz breathes quietly as the Doctor’s form solidifies and steps closer to her bedside.

“I am _so_ sorry.” She tells Yaz sincerely, and Yaz balks.

“You what?” She replies, leaning forwards in her confusion, “Doctor you have nothing to be so-” She winces mid-sentence and clasps her cast with her good hand. The Doctor watches her with wide eyes, wishing she could hold her hand, pass her a drink of water, anything.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Yaz tries again, shifting her weight so she can swing her legs off the side of her bed to face her friend. She hisses when her left ankle hits the floor.

“Don’t move, Yaz. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” The Doctor crouches at her side, eyes sad. She sighs, “If I hadn’t burst in there and distracted you, he might never have…”

“You can’t know that, you saw the look on his face, he wanted to pick a fight.” Yaz interrupts the Doctor’s thoughts, taking in the familiar sight of the blonde. She’s missed having her at her side, “Speaking of, what was that? How did you appear and… do _that_?” The Doctor shakes her head, wincing.

“I don’t know, the TARDIS said you were in danger and poof,” She gestures with her hands, “There I was.” She frowns, her face downtrodden.

“But what about the lightbulb?” Yaz absently reaches up to the bandage on her forehead, “Was that you?” The Doctor nods.

“I think so.” The utter dismay on the Doctor’s face as she looks away pains Yaz to her core.

“Oi,” She says, getting the Doctor’s attention again, “I don’t blame you, remember? But I do want to know how you did it.” She pats the bed next to her, and the Doctor jumps up and sits beside her.

“It was the TARDIS’ idea, trying to physically move things by myself” The Doctor explains, “I’m not really sure how it works. I’ve been practising.”

“Can you show me?” Yaz stifles a yawn, and the Doctor quickly glances at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

“Not right now, you need to sleep Yaz.” The Doctor stands and ushers her back under the sheets, “I’ll come back tomorrow.” Yaz nods sleepily against her pillow.

“I need to get back to the TARDIS,” She mumbles, “We need to keep looking…”

“Shhh,” The Doctor quiets her, “Don’t worry about that now, worry about resting up and getting better.” The Doctor leans forwards and kisses Yaz’s temple, and as she drops off to sleep she can hardly bring herself to care that she couldn’t feel the Doctor’s featherlight touch. 

“Goodnight Yaz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments on the last chapter, I really enjoy hearing what you guys think :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking a little longer for this one! I'm currently producing a short film so it's been pretty hectic. Hope you all enjoy!

The next few days pass similarly to the last. Yaz just wants to spend her time in the Doctor’s company, but with her family’s presence, any conversation between the two is next to impossible. 

“It’s like they think they can fix me with their hovering,” Yaz whispered to the Doctor the night before. Her family were in bed, but once again her bedroom door had been left open. The Doctor perches on the edge of her bed.

“They’re just trying to show that they care, Yaz.” The blonde told her, “They’re worried about you, is all.” 

“I know,” Yaz sighed, frustrated at their constant walking on eggshells, “But it just makes me feel worse. I just want everything back to how it was. If only I could get to the TARDIS and carry on researching with you.” They lapsed into silence after that, the Doctor’s mere presence comfort enough to draw Yaz into sleep. 

This morning Najia had coaxed Yaz out of bed bright and early, helping her to the sofa and presenting her with some tea, toast, and her next dose of painkillers, for which she was grateful for. 

“Come on, eat up.” Najia says and Yaz squints up at her. 

“What?” Her mum asks defensively. Something’s definitely off. Maybe. 

“Nothing.” Yaz shrugs noncommittally and sips at her tea. Najia appears unconvinced.

“Anyway,” she clears her throat, “I thought we could get you in the bath after you’ve eaten. We’ll have to cover up your casts and bandage mind, but it’ll help you feel a little more human.” Yaz chews on her lip before smiling.

“That’d be nice.” She agrees, and the first smile on her mum’s face in a while is worth it. 

After a somewhat uncomfortable bath – “I’ve seen it all before,” Her mum said as she helped her into the tub – Sonya emerges from her room and braids Yaz’s hair.

“It’ll keep it out of your face.” She explained, and while this would typically be unusual behaviour for her sister Yaz allows it, because her tangled mess of hair had proved extremely bothersome with one hand out of action, leaving her unable to style it herself. 

“Do you want some biscuits, love?” Najia asks Yaz around midmorning, already popping a plate of them beside the pillow where her sling-encased broken arm rests. Yaz feels her stomach grumble in anticipation, but all hunger dissolves when she sees a plate of custard creams beside her.

“I’m not hungry, thanks though.” Yaz mutters, leaning back to rest her aching head against the sofa cushions. 

A short while later Yaz falls asleep to the sounds of her mum washing up in the kitchen and soon she’s falling again. 

This time the Doctor is falling with her, and each time Yaz reaches for her hand she is pulled from her reach. 

“Doctor!” She screams, words whipped away into nothingness by the wind, and the dark silhouette at the top of the stairs is laughing sinisterly.

“Doctor!” Yaz jolts awake painfully on the sofa, tightly wrapped in her mum’s embrace. 

“Shh, it’s okay Yaz,” She whispers into her daughter’s ear, rocking her gently. Hidden in Najia’s hair Yaz can just make out the Doctor’s glitchy form watching over her from the corner of the room, eyes tearful. 

“Doctor.” Yaz whispers, struggling upright to get a better look.

“I know you miss the Doctor, honey.” Najia soothes, pulling a tissue from the box on the end table and dabbing it against Yaz’s cheek. She didn’t even realise she was crying. When Yaz’s breathing eventually slows Najia pulls back.

“Feel better now?” She asks, worry in her brow. Yaz nods, if only to make her mum feel better. “Do you want some tea?” Najia asks instead, attempting to solve her problems the British way. Yaz opens her mouth to reply when the doorbell rings. Najia’s face immediately tells Yaz that something is most certainly up.

“Who’s that?” Yaz asks, and Najia ignores her, moving to open the door. Yaz’s face is screwed with confusion, and she turns to look at the Doctor, who has moved slightly closer now. She shrugs.

“Hello boys, thanks for coming.” Najia says sweetly, and Yaz’s eyes open wide in horror when Graham and Ryan enter the flat. 

“Alright Yaz?” Graham greets her, “We heard what happened and we thought we’d take you down to the coffee shop on the corner, your mum here thought it would do you good to get some fresh air.” Yaz’s mouth is open with surprise, her mum helping her to a bath and Sonya braiding her hair all make sense now. Yaz turns to Najia.

“Mum!” Okay, so she’s a little angry – she doesn’t enjoy feeling blindsided.

“Oh, did I forget to mention Graham and Ryan were coming over?” Najia plays coy, but Yaz sees right through her. 

“Come on Cockle,” Graham pushes the wheelchair closer to her side, “Let’s get you out of the house.” 

“No!” Yaz cries, eyes darting between Graham, Ryan, her mum, and the Doctor in the corner, “I don’t want to go anywhere!”

“Yasmin, you’re making them feel unwelcome,” Najia hisses at her out of the men’s earshot, tight lipped. Ordinarily Yaz would feel guilty under her mother’s angry gaze, but today she’s just mad. 

“I don’t care, mum. I want to stay here.” Okay, so maybe she is being rude if the look on Graham and Ryan’s faces are anything to go by, but they can’t expect her to go along with their plans like she’s a child that can’t make decisions for herself; she’s an adult, and wants to be treated like one. 

They stare at each other for a second, neither mum nor daughter willing to back down. Graham clears his throat, attracting their attention.

“Listen, Yaz, we just want to make sure you’re alright.” He crouches down beside the sofa. The Doctor has stayed silent up until this point, watching the situation play out, but chooses now to speak up. 

“Please go with them, Yaz.” The Doctor pleads, and the brunette’s eyes flicker to her friend in the space behind Graham, and she can feel all other eyes in the room on her. “They’re right, it’ll do you good to get out of here for a while.” The Doctor smiles reassuringly. 

“… Okay.” Yaz relents, and she feels a collective sigh sweep the room, “I’ll go.” She holds the Doctor’s gaze steady. 

“Brilliant, Yaz.” Graham says to her, him and her mum readying to assist her transfer from the sofa to the wheelchair. 

“Have fun, Yaz.” The Doctor tells her, “I’ll see you when you get back.” She says as Yaz hobbles into her seat, gently placing her tender leg on the footrest. Yaz nods in reply and the Doctor disappears in a glitchy haze. 

Yaz doesn’t say much as Ryan and Graham accompany her outside, her eyes locked to the space where the Doctor just occupied as she is wheeled from the flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graham and Ryan are back! Will Yaz feel brave enough to confide in them?
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	12. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for leaving you guys hanging for so long! Almost all of the chapters have been written, but as I'm sure you all know a lot has been going on in the last few weeks. I hope this chapter brings you the reprieve that I think we all need.

“What a lovely day.” Graham remarks as the trio leave Yaz’s block of flats, Ryan pushing her wheelchair. Yaz grimaces as she looks up at the murky grey sky but nods along for Graham’s sake. A hint of blue catches her eye, and she turns her head to stare at the TARDIS as they work their way further down the path until it’s out of sight, Graham and Ryan steadfastly ignoring the elephant in the room. 

It’s pretty chilly outside and Yaz wraps her good arm around herself, feeling exposed in her slouchy clothes. Her sweatpants are the only bottoms she is able to pull up one-handed, so she begrudgingly has to make do. Yaz silently listens to Ryan and Graham’s mindless chatter as they round the corner to the coffee shop. 

Once inside Yaz waits at a table with Ryan while Graham orders at the counter, “My treat.” He said, patting his wallet in his pocket. She’s hardly said a word to either of the boys since they left the house and it’s getting a bit awkward, so she busies herself by looking out the window. 

“Penny for your thoughts.” Ryan says beside her, and Yaz shrugs; he wouldn’t believe her anyway. Then she feels guilty, realising that she’s being unnecessarily rude and turns to face him.

“How’s work been?” She’s ignoring his question and hoping he doesn’t try and push it. Thankfully he takes the olive branch. 

“Alright,” He shrugs, “A bit boring.” Neither of them mention the Doctor and she’s glad for it, not sure how long she’d be able to keep her secret if they did. 

Soon enough Graham breaks the next silence by setting down a tray of two coffees and a tea on the table, with three slices of cake. 

“Ladies first,” He says, gesturing to the selection, and Yaz realises how much she’s missed the pair.

“Thank you,” She says quietly, choosing the carrot cake and prodding at it with her fork, “For coming to visit.” She looks up when the pair remain silent to see them exchanging glances.

“It’s alright, love,” Graham pats her gently on the shoulder, “We’re just worried about you; struggling to get in touch with you and all.” Yaz shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Sorry, my phone was broken in the accident.” She lies, and her stomach turns at Ryan and Graham’s unconvinced faces, the former rolling his eyes. 

“Come off it, Yaz,” Ryan calls her out, “You’ve not spoken to us in months.” She drops her eyes to her lap and begins to toy at a loose thread on her sling. 

“I know I’ve not been a very good friend lately,” She admits, peeking upwards to see Graham’s encouraging face looking back at her, “And I’m sorry, I’ll try harder.” Graham’s warm hand envelops her own, stilling her fingers. 

“You don’t need to apologise, Yaz. We’re just worried about you – your family are worried about you, getting hurt like that,” He takes a sip of his tea. “The Doctor would hate for you to suffer in silence like this.” Tears begin to prick her eyes, but she blinks them back.

“I know.” She says truthfully, nodding, “It’s- It’s just hard. How are we supposed to just carry on with our lives now that she’s -” Yaz cuts herself off, not able to finish. 

“She’s still with us, you know.” Ryan speaks up, capturing her attention, “In here.” He points at his chest and Yaz smiles wanly, Ryan not realising just how right he is. 

They sit and reflect for a few moments before Graham gestures towards her coffee. “Drink up now, it’ll get cold.” And she does exactly that. The new silence that emerges as they finish their drinks is a more reassuring one, and they head home a short while later. 

“Wait,” Yaz reaches down and stills the wheel of her chair as they pass the TARDIS outside her flat, “Can we?” She nods towards the box, wanting to go inside. She can sense Graham and Ryan exchange uneasy looks over her head. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Yaz.” Graham says eventually. She can see the unease in his eyes, and it pains her that she’s so close yet so far from going inside. With her arm in a sling she can’t roll herself there alone; she’s at the mercy of Ryan and Graham. 

“Can everybody please stop deciding what they think is best for me and let me choose for myself?” Yaz says directly, and it’s probably the most she’s said to them all afternoon. 

“Sorry, it’s just…” Graham replies with uncertainty, gesturing loosely with his hand. Yaz knows they’re worried about what she’ll do.

“We locked the doors when we left, remember,” Ryan says then, “We can’t get in anyway.” Yaz grins and triumphantly pulls the necklace with the TARDIS key out from where it hangs under her sweatshirt. She dangles it happily between her fingers, knowing the boys are out of excuses. 

“Oh go on then,” Graham sighs, pushing the wheelchair forwards and Yaz struggles to suppress her excitement; she’s missed the comforting presence of the ship. 

When they reach the familiar blue doors, Yaz leans forward and slips the key into the lock. Ryan holds the doors open for them as they enter, and the centre console’s golden glow spills out into the street.   
Once she has been pushed inside Yaz takes a deep breath, her eyes closed. She’s revelling in the moment, finally feeling at home. When her eyes open again she sees that the Doctor has manifested once more, waiting by the console. The Doctor’s smile is comforting, if a little confused. 

“Is everything okay?” She asks Yaz, who nods minutely. Her thoughts are brought back to the current moment by Ryan, who clears his throat.

“What’s been going on here, then?” He asks, and it takes Yaz a second to realise he’s talking about the mess. Yaz gulps.

Her and the Doctor hadn’t exactly been tidy in their research, and while the worst of the mess is contained to the library the console room is littered with books and lists of notes Yaz has made to keep track. 

“Uhm…” She stalls, eyes flickering between the boys and the Doctor, whose eyes are as panicked as hers must appear. 

“How much time have you been spending here, Yaz?” Graham asks once it’s clear she doesn’t know how to reply. She must be looking like a deer in headlights now, she thinks as her gaze meets the Doctor’s again. 

She knows Graham and Ryan have noticed her attention towards the other side of the room, but she can’t bring herself to care anymore. 

Her gaze is caught by Graham, who kneels down in front of her, hand patting her on the knee.

“Yaz, don’t tell us you’ve been in the TARDIS all this time,” Her gaze flickers over his shoulder again, before back to him, “I know it’s hard, and we all miss her very much. But… the Doctor is gone, and you need to work on moving on.”

“…No.” Yaz whispers, her voice cracking. She can see similar tears building in the Doctor’s eyes as her own begin to trail down her cheeks. 

“Yaz,” Ryan has joined Graham in front of her now, and she cranes her neck to look around him to keep the Doctor in her eyesight. “You can talk to us, yeah? We know what you’re going through.” Their kindness hurts her heart, and she feels awful for having kept this secret, but knows it’s for the best.

She couldn’t stand it if she got their hopes up only to fail. They’ve both suffered so much loss already, she can’t do that to them. Yaz scrubs at a tear on her cheek, frustrated. 

“It’s okay, Yaz.” She hadn’t noticed the Doctor moving closer to her until she’s standing at her side.

“It’s not.” Yaz blurts out in a panic, only realising that she has replied out loud when it’s already too late.

“It’s not what, love?” Graham asks, his and Ryan’s faces creasing with concern. She ignores him, covering her face with her hand. She’s overwhelmed and attempting to smother her sobs.

“I can’t do this.” She cries, her breath hitching amongst the Doctor’s attempts at talking her down. 

“Can’t do what?” Ryan asks, and Yaz realises they’re not going to stop asking. Her hands lower from her face and she looks to her right, into the eyes of the Doctor. Her face is open, eyes trusting. 

“Yaz?” Graham squeezes at her knee, and she turns her head back to face the pair.

“The Doctor isn’t dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, that was a big chapter in terms of moving the story forward... Let me know what you think!! I hope to have the next chapter up soon!


	13. Chapter 13

A stunned silence greets Yaz’s revelation, her eyes flickering back and forth between the trio waiting for someone – anyone – to say something. Graham and Ryan turn to each other, and Yaz is unable to decipher their communicative looks. 

Eventually a reproachful sigh escapes Graham’s lips, his brow creased with concern.

“Yaz…” He begins, and she determines that the expression on his face is pity. 

“Losing the Doc has been hard for all of us,” He says carefully, “When I lost Grace I thought the same thing – there’s no way she can be here one day and not the next, but –” Yaz interrupts. 

“Wait,” She says incredulously, feeling nausea ebbing away at the pit of her stomach, “you think I’m lying?” Yaz asks accusingly and Graham adamantly shakes his head.

“I think you want to believe it’s true.” He tells her sadly, and Yaz can scarcely believe her ears. She turns her attention to Ryan, and his face tells a similar story to his granddad’s. 

“That’s because it is.” She says fiercely as Graham moves to stand, “I can see her, she’s right here!” She points, and the boys look directly through the Doctor without seeing her. 

“Maybe it’d be best for us to head home,” He tells her, moving around to the back of her wheelchair.

“No!” Yaz screeches as the chair begins to move, “I’m staying here!” The tears on her cheeks fall furiously now, and the chair’s movements stall to a jerky stop. She can feel the Doctor crouch down by her side. 

“It’s not their fault, Yaz. They don’t understand.” The time lord tells her. Yaz can see the pain in her eyes and reminds herself that the Doctor is equally plagued with this immense helplessness that she carries on her shoulders. 

“Let’s help them to understand then, Doctor.” She turns to face the two men again, whose faces are painted with something akin to shock. Graham opens his mouth to speak and Yaz feels something inside of her snap.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” She asks accusingly, trying to hide the pain in her voice. 

The silence on the ship is deafening, and confirmation enough.

“Well I’m not.” Yaz whispers, her voice thick with tears. She turns her head to look at the Doctor. “I’m not crazy.” Now that the weight she has been carrying on her lone shoulders is free, she sobs. 

“Yaz,” She hears Ryan say and she looks up, “It’s oka–” 

“Don’t you dare tell me anything about this situation is okay,” She snaps. “Because it isn’t.” Yaz can faintly hear the Doctor at her side telling her to take deep breaths as her chest heaves, but she can’t bring herself to give it a try. 

“The Doctor is still here, and I’m the only one that can see her!” She shouts, before her voice drops to a low murmur, “Tell me how any of it is okay.” Graham and Ryan speak to her then, but Yaz tunes them out, deciding to instead focus her gaze on the woman at her side. 

“I don’t want to carry on like this.” Yaz tells her sadly, her voice hitching with tears. The Doctor shushes her.

“We’re going to figure this out, Yaz.” The Doctor tells her, and Yaz is reminded of the hours they’ve spent together on the library sofa, comfortable in each other’s presence and confident in their abilities, “Nothing has changed – you said it yourself, we’re close to figuring this out, yeah?” Yaz finds herself nodding. 

“Yeah.” She whispers.

“Focus on getting better for now, and when you are we can carry on where we left off. I’m not going anywhere.” The Doctor sends Yaz a sad but encouraging smile, which she attempts to return but comes out looking more like a grimace.

“But I don’t want to wait any longer,” Yaz tells her, faintly noticing that Graham and Ryan have grown quiet and are listening, “I… I want to be with you. I love you.” The entire ship has gone deadly silent now, the boys scarcely breathing at her revelation. 

The Doctor sniffs.

“I love you too, Yaz.” She replies, and Yaz is overwhelmed at the sheer honesty in her eyes. Their moment is broken by Graham clearing his throat.

“Don’t start if you’re just going to tell me I’m lying again.” Yaz says pre-emptively, and Graham holds his hands up in truce.

“Darling, I’m not going to pretend I understand what’s going on,” He tells her, and Yaz notices his eyes are wet with tears, “But I’d like you to tell us what happened from the beginning.” Yaz blinks in surprise, and they use her silence to take a seat on the step up to the centre console. 

“I… Uh…” Yaz stutters out when they look at her expectantly. The Doctor sits down on the floor between the three, reaching out and patting Yaz’s knee.

“You can do it.” She smiles, giving Yaz the courage to speak. 

She takes a deep breath and starts from the very beginning, all the way up until her accident. They don’t interrupt and she’s thankful for that. She’s been so desperate to confide in somebody that it all comes spilling out and the weight subsequently lifts from her weary shoulders. When she finishes her tale, the TARDIS is silent. 

“Are you two angry at me?” Yaz asks eventually, toying with the loose thread on her sling again. Graham shakes his head hurriedly.

“Why on earth would we be mad at you, pet?” He asks, and Yaz shrugs her shoulders numbly.

“I really wish you’d told us sooner,” Ryan admits, “It’s clearly been eating you up inside.” Yaz glances down at the Doctor to see green eyes gazing back at her with a look that she can only describe as admiration. 

“It really has.” Yaz replies, embarrassed at the way her eyes tear up at her again. Graham procures a tissue from his pocket and gently presses it into her hand. “Do you believe me now?” She asks, albeit reluctantly, not sure she could stand to be turned down again. 

“Well, it’s a lot to take in.” Graham manages and Yaz’s heart drops.

“Give them time, Yaz.” The Doctor tells her, and Yaz knows she’s right. Her eyes are dragged from the Doctor’s gaze by Graham standing and clapping his hands together.

“How do we get started, then?” Yaz is thrown for a loop. She frowns and blinks up at him.

“You what?” She asks finally, confused.

“Helping you with this research you’ve been doing. Can’t promise we’ll be any help, mind, but we’ll give it a go, won’t we Ry?” He nudges Ryan on the shoulder.

“Yep.” His grandson agrees, Yaz gaping at them.

“But I– ” She’s lost for words. She turns to the Doctor to see her grinning wildly. 

“You didn’t think we’d help?” Graham asks, helpfully deciphering her thoughts, “Course we want to, you plonker.”

“I thought you didn’t believe me.” Yaz finally manages, feeling small sitting in her wheelchair. 

“But we believe in you, Yaz,” Ryan shrugs, a small smile on his lips, “and we’ll get there eventually. It’s just a lot to get our heads around.” 

“Shall we crack on, then?” Graham asks, tilting his head towards the piles of notes and books on the floor behind them.

“Yep,” Yaz chokes out, “Let’s do this,” she says with newfound determination, preparing herself to catch the boys up on all they had learnt so far. 

“The fam’s back together!” The Doctor cheers, dancing around the console, and Yaz snorts into her tissue. 

Yaz’s outing turned out to be longer than expected. They quickly lost themselves to the complications of research and were startled by the ringing of Graham’s phone a while later. 

“Hello?” He asks, and the room’s occupants turn to face him, “Oh! Sorry Najia! We… Had so much fun at the café we decided to move the party to my house.” Yaz can hear faint grumbling from the other side of the phone and smirks at the Doctor.

“Of course, sorry Najia,” Graham frowns guiltily at the room, “Yes, we’ll have her back shortly.” He says, and Yaz huffs. 

“She’s just worried about you.” The Doctor tells Yaz while Graham is still occupied over the phone. 

“I know,” Yaz sighs, “It’s okay, it just felt like old times.” She admits, and the Doctor smiles wryly. 

“We can carry on tomorrow.” She tells the brunette, and it takes Yaz a second to realise that Graham and Ryan are looking at her expectantly.

“Are we off then?” Yaz says jokingly. Graham pats her on the shoulder.

“I’m afraid so, pet.” The Doctor watches on as he steers Yaz’s wheelchair towards the TARDIS doors, Ryan leading the way. 

“Hang on a second.” Yaz asks as she is wheeled away, “How did my mum have your phone number?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobs* the gang's back together
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


	14. 14

In the days following Yaz’s revelation, Ryan and Graham arrive promptly to her flat each morning and accompany her to the TARDIS – under the guise of spending time at their house, for Najia’s sake.

The first time they go back to the time ship after their talk, they discover that all the stairs in the TARDIS have been replaced with ramps.

“Wow,” Ryan had said when they arrived in the library, “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d been doing a lot of research.” The piles and piles of books and scattered papers all over the room are evidence of Yaz and the Doctor’s sheer determination in recent months, serving as a small reminder of how little attention Yaz had been paying to her own health. 

They soon immersed themselves into their research over the next few weeks. If Yaz closed her eyes and listened to the three voices surrounding her she could almost convince herself that it was just like old times.

Except it wasn’t. Yaz shakes her head. It wouldn’t do her any good to think like that. She turns her attention back to the conversation at hand.

“So you’re telling me that the Doctor thinks some sort of an electric shock will transfer her like a computer file from the TARDIS and back into her body?” Graham asks, somewhat aghast that they’re essentially planning to shock a dead body.

“Well aren’t brain waves made of electric pulses?” Ryan asks, “It kind of makes sense.” The Doctor jumps up from the sofa beside Yaz.

“Fifteen points to Ryan Sinclair!” She declares, and Yaz smirks at her antics. 

“What would we even use to create an electric shock that’s strong enough to do that?” Yaz asks, frowning in thought.

“I have a book somewhere that might help us.” The Doctor says, running around the back of the sofa and quickly scouring the bookshelves. Yaz follows her with her eyes, twisting in her seat.

“Got it!” The Doctor declares a few seconds later. “Can one of the boys come fetch it?” she asks, and Yaz sends Ryan over.

“Which one does she want, Yaz?” He asks, looking lost. A heavy looking leather-bound book falls from one of the shelves with a thud. “Alright then.” Ryan says agreeably, bending down to pick it up.

He holds the book flat on his open palms and the Doctor squints, focusing her energy on its pages, much like the lightbulb and pencil. One by one each page of the book turns by itself, Ryan’s eyes growing wider by the second. The pages stop moving on a spread illustrating a machine described as an electro convulsometer.

“Do you think you can do it, Ryan?” Yaz asks, finding amusement in the surprise on his face.

“You want _me_ to build that?” Ryan asks the air around him.

“She’ll talk you through it,” Yaz answers for the Doctor. “Or I will anyway. You’ll have to make a few adjustments, but it’ll essentially be pretty similar. You game?” 

“I guess so.” He nods and the Doctor beams with excitement, talking Yaz’s ears off as they relocate to her workshop so they can get to work immediately.

The Doctor assists Ryan in building the machine over the course of a few weeks. Ryan works dutifully under her watchful eye, spending almost all of his free time inside the TARDIS. Yaz helps where she can but mostly sticks to mediating between the two.

“Cuppa anyone?” Feeling somewhat useless in terms of engineering, Graham nominated himself to ensure that the team is well-fed, and the Doctor is glad for it. No one can say ‘no’ to Graham O’Brien, and Yaz is looking her healthiest in months as a result. The colour has returned to her cheeks and she appears much more energised.

“Yaz!” The Doctor exclaims excitedly one day when Yaz limps into the workshop with the assistance of a crutch held by her good arm. “Your appointment went well then?”

“Morning Doctor,” Yaz says, “yep, I got cleared to start putting weight on it. I can stop being so useless now.” She rolls her eyes as she plonks herself down in a chair.

“You, Yasmin Khan, could never be useless,” the Doctor smiles. “Me and Ryan couldn’t have done it without you. Speaking of, we think we’re almost done.” Yaz’s face lights up in excitement.

“When do you think it’ll be finished?” Yaz asks the pair, eyes darting from one to the other. Ryan finishes tightening a nut and tosses his spanner aside.

“Right now.” He replies smugly.

After fetching Graham, the group reconvenes in the console room.

“Let’s go over this again, just so I can get my head around it.” The older man says with a crease on his brow, “we’re going to shock the files from the TARDIS into the Doctor?”

“Basically,” Ryan supplies, “we’re going to plug the TARDIS mainframe into the machine, which will pass the Doctor’s file on as it shocks her.” Ryan connects a cable from the centre console to the machine, and wheels it towards the stasis chamber.

“Should be easy, like transferring a file.” The Doctor says with false bravado. Yaz passes on her sentiments to the boys, who look equally concerned.

“A shock to the system will do me good, get the hearts started and all that,” the Doctor says as Ryan connects two electrodes to the Doctor’s temples, her body lying lifelessly in the centre of the room.

“Is it going to hurt?” Yaz asks as she looks down at her friend’s body, burn still visible from the accident on her chest. The Doctor scrunches her nose and opts not to answer, telling Yaz everything she needs to know.

Yaz takes a deep breath. Everything they’ve done for the past three months has all come down to this.

“Yaz…” The Doctor says, “If this doesn’t work I – ”

“Don’t talk like that.” Yaz says fiercely, tears pricking her eyes as she looks at the Doctor, her body between them. She can’t even contemplate the possibility.

“But if it doesn’t… I love you, Yasmin Khan.” Yaz smiles sadly, a tear spilling down her cheek.

“I love you too, Doctor.” They lock eyes for a moment, the gravity of the situation dawning on them.

“Are we ready?” Ryan asks, finger hovering over the switch as Yaz and Graham take a step back from the table.

“Ready.” Yaz and the Doctor say in unison, gritting their teeth. He flicks the switch.

The room erupts in bright light and Yaz is forced to shield her eyes. The TARDIS wheezes and the Doctor screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger (or not lol). The next and final chapter will be with you all soon.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone for coming on this journey with me. All of your wonderful comments mean the world to me, so I'd love to hear what you thought of the next instalment.
> 
> See you soon!


	15. Chapter 15

White noise.

The Doctor coughs. The rushing in her ears fades to silence and a deep-seated burning settles on her chest. She heaves in a breath and welcomes the air in her chest and oxygen racing through her veins once more.

The Doctor squints her eyes open a crack before quickly forcing them closed again when the assault of light pierces her skull with a ferocious throb. She doesn’t learn from her actions and opens her eyes once more. She finds that the TARDIS has dimmed the overhead lights, and mentally thanks the ship with every fibre of her being.

“Doctor?” A teary voice asks to her right, and she turns her head to find Graham, Ryan and Yaz still standing against the far wall of the room, frozen in place. The Doctor’s trembling hand reaches up to pry the electrodes from her temples and she can feel the angry electrical burns they leave in their wake but ignores it as she studies the humans beside her. Her eyes move from one to the next before they settle on… Yaz. Her Yaz.

She heaves another gasp of air, every atom in her body silently screaming at her to get to Yaz. Her limbs are clumsy with misuse as she forces herself to roll to the side, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

“Yaz.” She croaks out, and the woman in question stumbles towards the Doctor without her crutch, meeting the Time Lord just as she hops down from her perch. Her head swims as her body adjusts to her newly upright position and her fingers curl into Yaz’s jacket as she leans heavily into her.

“Careful- ” The Doctor faintly hears Graham say as she and Yaz teeter on the edge of falling, the Doctor’s body practically a deadweight as she clings to the brunette. Yaz’s weakened ankle is unable to shoulder the strain and they collapse to the ground, though neither women acknowledge the jarring pain in their knees as they hit the metal floor. They’re an awkward tangle of limbs and Yaz’s cast knocks into her, but they don’t care now that they are finally physically connected after months of pining and painful closeness.

“I can’t believe we did it,” Yaz mumbles into the Doctors hair as she curls her fingers into blonde locks at the nape of the Doctor’s neck, “I can’t believe it worked.” She’s crying, the Doctor can feel her chest heave with every breath. The Doctor faintly senses Graham and Ryan’s presence as they move closer to them, crouching low to the ground in shock and disbelief.

Eventually Yaz and the Doctor draw back from their embrace to look the other in the eye.

“You brought me back.” The Doctor whispers, her mouth curling upwards as the weight of the moment settles in her brain. She raises a hand to map out the contours of Yaz’s face, determined to commit it to memory. A tear falls from Yaz’s eye, dripping down her cheek as the Doctor smooths it away with the pad of her thumb.

“Thank you,” The Doctor tells the three humans sincerely, looking each in the eye. As the Doctor turns her cheek Yaz gasps, bringing her own hand up to the Doctor’s temple, seeing the new burn residing there.

“You’re hurt.” Yaz says brushing the Doctor’s own tears away.

“But I’m alive,” The Doctor shrugs with a watery smile, “I can’t thank you all enough. You’re brilliant, you lot. There’s nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it.” Graham claps a hand to her shoulder.  
“We couldn’t have done it without you.” He tells her, eyes moist but warm.

“And you, Yaz.” Ryan pats her on the knee. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through for the last few months.” Yaz sniffles.

“It was all worth it, though.” She tells them, dabbing at her cheek with her sleeve.

Eventually the group move to stand, Graham and Ryan heaving the Doctor up by her arms as her knees knock in a way akin to Bambi as Yaz hobbles and fetches her crutch that lies forgotten on the floor.

“We’ve got you, Doc.” Graham tells her as her body trembles with the exertion after being still for so long, and she’s glad that the boys let her feel as if she’s supporting herself for her ego’s sake.

The Doctor lights up as they enter the console room and she is face to face with the ship that saved her soul. Graham and Ryan help her up the steps to the centre console as Yaz leads the way, before she waves them off and clutches at the control panel. She raises an index finger and presses a kiss to it, before gently touching it to the controls.

“Thank you, girl.” She whispers, and the ship lights up around them as the TARDIS whirrs at the compliment. Yaz sidles closer to the Doctor and presses into her side as the Time Lord gasps at the pain of the burn in her chest as she moves.

Yaz claps one of the Doctor’s hands in her own and motions towards the steps leading deeper into the TARDIS.

“Let’s get you sorted out, shall we?” She asks, and just before the Doctor’s legs give way beneath her Graham and Ryan are at her side once more, supporting her to the med bay. Yaz lovingly tends to her burns as the boys avert their eyes at the sight of the rippled and marred skin of her chest – where the lightning bolt struck that had cost her life. Yaz stands in the vee of the Doctor’s legs, and gently presses a kiss to the Doctor’s nose when she is finished with her ministrations.

Later the group find themselves in the library where it all began. The Doctor is now donning Yaz’s cosiest pair of pyjamas and curls herself into the sofa cushions, relishing in the feeling of the cushy fabric beneath her fingertips. Yaz sits beside her and tugs the Doctor towards her, and she rests her head on the other woman’s chest.

They’re alone in the library now, the Doctor notes, unable to remember when Graham and Ryan left them. It must have been after they cocooned her and Yaz in every blanket they could possibly find.

“How’re you feeling?” Yaz asks, the rumbling of her chest soothing in the Doctor’s ear.

“I’m fine.” The Doctor replies but looks up at Yaz’s level expression after a moment of silence.

“And the honest answer?” Yaz asks somewhat teasingly, and the Doctor forces her weary body to sit upright and face the woman.

“It’s true – all of this,” She gestures towards the burns on her chest and temples, “It’s inconsequential. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here, with you.” The Doctor’s tongue flicks at her lip as she leans forwards into Yaz and gently presses her lips to Yaz’s. She pulls back a few moments later, a shy smile on her face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” The Doctor tells Yaz, cupping the other woman’s face with her hands.

“I think I have a faint idea.” Yaz whispers back, surging forwards to capture the Doctor’s lips with her own this time. The kiss tells of all the frustrations and longing of the past months until they break apart with heaving chests, foreheads resting against the others.

“I love you.” Yaz tells her desperately, quickly meeting the Doctor’s lips once more.

“I love you too, Yaz.” The Doctor replies after. Their eyes meet and Yaz is besotted with the love and openness that can be found in the Doctor’s.

Their moment is interrupted as Graham and Ryan bustle back into the room, mugs of tea in hand.

“Here you go, pet, this’ll help you get some strength back.” Graham hands the Doctor a mug of tea, and she is forced to relinquish Yaz’s hands as she needs both to try and abate the shaking of her weary limbs. Yaz takes her own mug from Ryan, and the Doctor settles for curling herself into Yaz’s side.

The group sip at their tea in a comfortable silence, Yaz basking in the warmth of the woman beside her. When the Doctor finishes her tea she tips forwards to place her mug on the coffee table, and spots Yaz’s pencil case. She grasps it and pulls it closer towards herself.

“What’re you doing?” Yaz asks with amusement as the Doctor fishes out a red sharpie.

“May I?” The Time Lord holds out an expectant hand and gently tugs Yaz’s cast-encased wrist towards herself, readying the marker.

“Go on, then.” Yaz relinquishes with a watery smile and watches as the Doctor sticks out her tongue in concentration, forcing her shaking hands and array of sharpie colours to draw a lopsided rainbow on the topside of Yaz’s cast.

“What do you think?” The Doctor asks as she tips her head upwards to look at Yaz when she is finished.

“I love it.” Yaz grins, wrapping her arms around the woman and drawing her closer, “And I love you. So much.”

“Me too, Yaz,” The Doctor mumbles against Yaz’s neck, “To the sun and back.”

They stay in each other’s embrace and settle back against the sofa cushions. Yaz’s fingertips lazily scratch at the Doctor’s scalp, lulling her to sleep.

In her last moments of wakefulness the Doctor muses how safe, warm and loved she feels with Yaz at her side. The journey was rough, but she’s glad that it led her to this moment, protected and cared for by her fam.

The warmth settles in her chest, and the Doctor does the one thing she hasn’t been able to do in months. Her mind is at ease, her thoughts are still, and…

She falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the final chapter was everything you were hoping it to be!! Thanks everyone for joining me on this journey. I've absolutely loved reading all of your lovely comments along the way. 
> 
> And a special thanks to Bunheadkitkat19, my amazing beta, for leaving me ginormous paragraphs at the end of chapters that made me smile and for checking in on me when I went AWOL lol. 
> 
> Thanks everyone <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to BunheadKitKat19, I couldn't have written this without you!!!
> 
> Written by doyouthasmind  
> Beta’d by BunheadKitKat19


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